


Poor Wording

by willowcrowned



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, based on personal experience, snarky formal letters, unnecessarily florid language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcrowned/pseuds/willowcrowned
Summary: In which a letter is written, despite (and because of) several (un)helpful comments.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	Poor Wording

Roy comes home one evening to find Ed sprawled on his couch, surrounded by takeaway containers and half asleep. He finds the whole picture incredibly charming, which he’s sure says more than he’d like about how his brain is wired when it comes to Edward Elric. 

(The turning point—when he had decided once and for all that he was going to put up with the inevitable and unavoidable craziness that follows Ed around— had come when Ed had gotten back at two in the morning completely drunk and started declaring his love for Roy Mustang to any kitchen appliance that could hear it. (Granted, it had ruined the effect a little when he’d also declared his love for Cretan takeaway, Al, Winry, Black Hyate, and Roy’s couch, but Roy was so surprised that he’d ranked above takeaway on Ed’s list that it hadn’t really mattered.)) 

“Oh, good,” Ed says, looking up. “You’re home. I need you to write a letter for me.” 

Roy hangs up his coat and begins cheerfully complaining. “‘Hello, Roy, how was your day?’ ‘Alright, thank you. And yours?’”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m being rude,” Ed frowns. “I promise to care about your day after you’re done with this.” 

Roy starts to sigh, long-suffering. 

“George Douglas has come up with a circle for nuclear fission,” Ed says, “And he plans to test it next month.” 

Roy straightens and frowns. “Will it work?” 

Ed huffs. “No. If it worked, then we would be about to have sex.” 

Roy snorts. There’s nothing that gets Ed going quite like advances in nuclear chemistry. “What will happen if he tries it?” 

“Best case scenario?” Ed grimaces. “Central is obliterated.” 

Roy sucks in air through his teeth. “I’ll go get a pen.” 

Ed trails into his study after him, forgoing his normal seat on the corner of Roy’s desk for pacing from wall to wall as Roy sits down, pulls out a sheet of paper, and begins to write. 

_‘To Dr. George Douglas:_

__

__

_It has recently come to the attention of the office of the Führer that you are...’_

“An idiot,” Ed demands. “Call him an idiot.” 

“I can’t,” Roy says, even though he would very much like to. 

“But he’s an idiot!” Ed protests. 

Roy sighs. “And so are half the people I work with. If I went around calling half the idiots I know ‘idiots’, then I’d never get a damn thing done.” 

Ed frowns at him, and Roy groans. Fine. 

_‘...engaged in a project of some notoriety, that being the pursuit of nuclear fission. While undoubtedly a valorous undertaking, it seems reminiscent of several previous experiments that the Alchemical Ethics Council has seemed too dangerous for research. In addition, you are reminded that several of your former experiments ended with less-than-desirable results. Though your perseverance throughout the many trials which you have endured is noted to be of an uncommon kind, you have continuously failed to see the merit in what perhaps may be a more suitable line of work._

__

__

_This newest experiment is, in no uncertain terms, a disaster waiting to happen. Your lack of care for human life...”_

Roy frowns and crosses out the last two lines. 

“Tell him there isn’t enough paper in the world to write a book long enough to explain all the ways he’s wrong,” Ed suggests, seeing Roy pause. 

Roy sighs. 

_‘Numerous papers, dissertations, and books have been published on the topic of nuclear fission. Yet, even put together, they lack a means of comprehending your most recent creation. One must assume that the fault does not lie with the collected works of over one thousand disparate authors, but with your own work._

__

__

_I am assured that the work you have set forth at this moment is not only unsafe, but so unsafe as to pose a danger to all of Central.’_

Hmm. No. That’s not right. Douglas will know Ed had something to do with this anyways, but better not rub it in that Ed is twice the alchemist he is, which would be especially insulting given that Ed can't even do alchemy. Roy frowns and crosses the line out. 

“Have you said he’s an incompetent asshole with no regard for human life yet?” 

“No.” 

“Will you?” 

“I’ll consider it.” Never let it be said that he doesn’t make sacrifices for Ed. 

_‘A desire to make great strides in any scientific ream is an admirable driving impetus, especially in the case of nuclear chemistry, where the advances of science might also advance the good of the populace, however, given your history, your dedication to the pursuit of science has seemingly coincided with a lack of both prescience and perspective. Science ought only be for the good of the people. This central tenet of... your philosophy..._ Roy frowns, and crosses that out, _the Alchemist’s imperative is one you continue to ignore._

__

__

_When the love of—_ No, Douglas doesn’t love anything but his projects. _When the duty that—_ Not right again. Douglas doesn’t hold with concepts like responsibility to others. 

_When—_

Ed pauses in his pacing. “Have you threatened him yet?” 

“Isn’t that your job?” Roy remarks absentmindedly, unfortunately aware that Ed’s suggestion is a good one. 

_‘The Führer’s office reminds you that, should you continue with this work, not only will your research alchemist’s license and funding be revoked, but you will be prosecuted by the Alchemical Ethics Council for endangerment of the people. Failure to comply with this warning is tantamount to breaking the law._

__

__

_You have been warned.’_ Roy huffs. That makes him sound like a comical villain. 

_‘Please take in to account this warning.’_ Too polite, and Riza has been bothering him about mucking about with semi-archaic phrasing in legal documents (not that it’s been working, apparently). 

_‘You will not be given another—’_ Still wrong. 

“Why don’t you just end it there?” Ed asks, peering over his shoulder owlishly. 

Roy frowns, feeling like an idiot. Twenty years in politics and he still can’t write a formal letter to save his life. 

_‘-Führer Roy Mustang’_

Roy pulls out another sheet of paper, makes a fair copy, and hands it to Ed to read. Ed scans it, nods in approval, then hands it back to Roy for him to put in an official envelope and seal. Roy sets the letter down on the desk. 

Ed grins as Roy sets it down and swings a leg over Roy’s lap, straddling him. “Hello, Roy, how was your day?” 

Roy smiles back, a touch sappily if the expression Ed is giving him is anything to go by. “Alright, thank you. And yours?” 

“Better now that you’re here.” Ed is trying for dry humor, but he’s coming up loving and appreciative. Even after years, it does funny things to Roy’s heart. 

“You just keep me around for my letter-writing capabilities.” A smirk plays at the corners of Roy’s mouth. 

Ed snorts. “More like lack of thereof. You would have been struggling for hours without me.” 

Roy bites back a smile. Ed isn’t wrong. “What are you planning to do with it?” 

“Hand deliver it.” Ed’s smile is scary— the sort of one he gets when he’s about to light something on fire, either metaphorically or literally (and on one truly terrifying occasion, both). “A cease and desist from the Führer himself, delivered by the Führer’s very annoyed and very volatile boyfriend should do wonders for his desire to fuck around with things he doesn’t understand.” 

Roy stares up at Ed, an amused look on his face. “I love you,” he says simply. 

“I know.” Ed smirks, but it turns in to one of his gentle smiles after a few seconds. “Now, how do you feel about having sex?” 

Roy fails to bite back a smirk. “I think I could fit that in.” 

“Oh,” Ed mutters, “I have something you can fit in.” 

Roy pauses, trying to keep himself from laughing at the poorly-worded double entendre. “I’m rethinking agreeing to this.” 

“No,” Ed grins brightly. “You’re not.” 

Ed, as usual, is right.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this and I still have no clue what this is. Funny, hopefully, but who knows


End file.
